The Other Half
by Alecto's Muse
Summary: What happens when an old acquaintance runs into Zuko in a bar?


The Other Half

Alecto's Muse

October 28, 2006

Disclaimer: I don't own _Avatar: The Last Airbender_.

A/N: _Dream Royale_ put out the challenge of a 'Zuko in a bar' scene. I started off with this in mind, but then the story kind of took a life on its own.

Part 1 of 3.

So this is how the other half lives. Katara examined her surroundings. Sleek yet comfortable seats, bold art hung on dark walls: the effect was understated modern elegance. It was like no bar she had ever been to, although admittedly her expertise in this area was pathetically lacking. A loud barrage of laughter came from a group of fashionable-looking girls at the booth nearest the entrance. Katara pushed aside the slight twinge of envy as she passed. There were no Friday nights spent hanging with the girls for her. Between work and looking after her family, there wasn't much time left for a social life. Not that she was complaining. She was happy with her life, for the most part, except on days like this. Noticing the only other single person sitting at the bar, a dark-haired man in a red shirt, she chose a seat at the opposite end of the gleaming stainless steel counter. She didn't feel like making small talk, or getting hit on.

"Good evening. What can I get you?"

At the bartender's words, she swallowed her natural inclination to ask for ice water. Clearing her throat, she finally placed her order. Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed as he placed the drink before her. She sipped absently at it, as another group of people went by. As the ambient noise rose with the increasing patronage, she began to rethink her choice. She wanted a quiet place where she could be alone, without really being alone, but this seemed to be a popular spot. She wasn't ready to go home, but the walk would help clear her melancholy state. Sliding a few bills across the counter to the bartender, Katara grabbed her purse as she rose. She realised too late that the high heel of one of her sandals was caught in the metalwork on the base of her stool and she was currently fighting a losing battle against gravity. Her ankle twisted painfully and she braced herself for impact with the hard floor, when she found herself caught in the arms of someone; a Good Samaritan who was obviously very male, and very solid, but not in altogether unpleasant way. She found herself looking into a pair of amazing golden eyes, before gradually becoming aware again of the people and sounds around her.

"Are you ok, Miss?" She blinked, pulling her gaze away from her rescuer to see the barman peering at her with concern.

She tried to find her voice. "Umm… Yes. I think so." Then, the pain shooting up her leg made a liar of her.

"Haru, get some ice." Her bartender quickly disappeared.

Now thoroughly embarrassed, she kept her head down, and she tried to recover her dignity. "It's ok. I'm fine, really." So much for walking home; she'll have to call a cab.

Katara pulled away from him, using the back of the same stool responsible for her undignified fall for support, and briefly wondered how she could make it to the exit gracefully. Alas, she realised her options ran the gamut from hopping to limping – so _graceful_ was out of the question. Her saviour was looking at her with an expression that bordered on faintly amused, his eyebrow lifted skeptically. As he tossed his hair back slightly, the scar over his left eye came into view and recognition dawned on her. "Its you!" She couldn't help the slight note of contempt from her voice. She realized she had passed her old nemesis at the bar earlier without noticing.

"Zuko!" They both looked over at the older gentleman beckoning to him. _Zuko_ nodded his acknowledgement, and turned that golden gaze back on her. The scar over his left eye, no longer as noticeable now, only added to his appeal. Despite her best efforts, she found herself thinking he was undeniably attractive.

"How many did you have?" He demanded arrogantly.

"Huh?" _Snap out of it_. Katara commanded herself.

"How much did you have to drink?" _Too many obviously, if I thought you were hot. Now that's the Zuko I remember._

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not drunk, you moron. I tripped over the stupid stool. It happens."

"Right. Why don't you just sit here, if you think you can manage that on your own? I'll be right back."

Was he smirking at her? She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, but he had already walked away. Silently fuming, she hobbled over to the booth she had been eyeing earlier. Hopefully _Zuko _wouldn't see her here. Time hadn't done much for his character; he was the same uptown, highhanded, arrogant jerk. If only she hadn't come to this stupid bar; to think she could have been safely at home. Of all the circumstances under which she could have imagined meeting Zuko again, this would have to be the worse. She cursed herself for acknowledging she even remembered him. She should have just played it cool; used neutral tones, aloof and nonchalant, like he obviously was. _Zuko? Zuko who? From high school you say? No, I really can't recall._

She kept an eye out for the bartender, motioning him over to her when he emerged carrying ice cubes in a small white towel. She looked up, smiling, to thank Haru again for being so helpful and nice, only to see that Zuko had indeed found her again. The smile died on her face. She noted that he still carried himself with an easy confidence; he walked around as if he owned the place.

Haru flashed a wide grin. "If you need anything else, you know, more ice, aspirin, whatever, just let me know."

"Thank you so much, Haru was it?" She reached down to unfasten the tiny buckle on the strap of her sandal, missing the stern look Zuko gave him. As Haru gave a last glance at Katara before returning to his station, Zuko rolled his eyes. He wasn't paying him to gawk at customers. Besides, she was clearly oblivious to the barman's attentions.

Katara kept all her attention on her ankle, hoping if she ignored Zuko he would go away. Zuko took the opposite seat in the booth, and sized up the young woman before him. These days, she looked more like the type who would fit in with his typical clientele: well-dressed, although fairly conservative, she wore little or no makeup, a high-necked blue blouse and knee-length pencil skirt. Her dark hair was tied back in a sophisticated version of the long braid he remembered.

Katara noticed Zuko frowning at her, and wondered for the umpteenth time why he didn't just leave, since her presence was obviously a bother to him. She planned to tell him so, but the pain shooting up her leg was reinforcing itself as her top priority. She grimaced as she very gingerly rested the makeshift ice pack on her ankle. The way she applied the pack was beginning to annoy him, until finally, unable to simply watch her any longer, Zuko spoke out.

"Do you really expect to keep the swelling down that way?"

She looked up, anger flashing in her blue eyes. "Excuse me?"

He motioned to her ankle.

"I really don't see how this is any of your concern." Katara snapped.

"Actually, it is my concern, considering that this is my bar. I don't exactly want a lawsuit on my hands."

He was the owner. That explained a lot. "A lawsuit? That's a bit extreme, isn't it?" Katara rolled her eyes to reinforce her point.

"You're obviously not in the customer service business, are you, Katara?"

_So he did remember her too._

Leaning over the table, she forced her lips into a tight smile. "Fine. How about this? I promise not to call a lawyer, and, since you want to be helpful, you can call me a cab. Problem solved."

Reaching over, he pulled her legs up, so that they were extended on the seat beside him. Ignoring the shocked look on her face, he wordlessly took the towel and ice from her hands, expertly wrapping it around her injured ankle. When he was finished, he leaned back against his seat with a look of self satisfaction.

She was rendered mute by the absurdity of such intimate contact with _him_. She couldn't bring herself to say thank you; she hadn't wanted or asked for his help anyway. Unlike her, he seemed at ease with the silence that stretched on. Katara folded her arms across her chest. After a few moments of careful visual examination of the grain of the dark wood table, she looked up, and was slightly unnerved when her eyes connected with his. Finally, she broke the gaze.

"Do you have a lot of accidents here then?"

His lips twitched. "Not with sober customers." It took all his years of practicing restraint to keep from grinning. If looks could kill, he'd be in serious trouble now.

"Oh." _Bastard._ She was beginning to get the feeling that he was enjoying her discomfort.

"So, what do you do?" He asked abruptly.

"I'm a therapist." Katara replied, before asking the question that had been at the back of her mind since seeing him.

"Are you living here now?" _What was the heir to the largest business empire in the West doing in this part of the world?_

"Yes. This is my home." He could see the unasked question on her face, but the full answer was too complicated, and unpleasant to get into.

They lapsed into silence once more. She didn't feel like reminiscing, and he didn't seem inclined to say anything, so she decided it was time to leave. "Would you mind having someone call me that taxi?"

Yep, he was definitely amused, judging by the slight smirk he now wore. "What, don't you enjoy my company? Besides, I'd advise you to keep off that ankle for at least a little while."

"Ah, and are you a doctor in addition to being a business man?"

Zuko chuckled. "No 'please call me a taxi', no 'thank you.' What happened to the polite kind little girl? It is true what they say - no good deed goes unpunished. You don't have to be grateful or anything."

"Grateful?" Katara was deliberately obtuse.

"Well, I am allowing you to take up valuable space that could now be occupied by paying customers, aren't I?" He pointed out.

"Very magnanimous of you." She replied in the driest tone she could find.

"I think so too."

"For your information, I am a paying customer. I…" Katara looked around the booth frantically. "Oh no! Oh no!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"My purse. I must have left it back at the counter. I have to go find…." She reached across to remove the ice, when he rested his warm calloused hand on hers.

"Don't move. I'll get it." Zuko lingered a bit longer than necessary, before striding away.

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More than ten minutes had passed since Zuko left. Katara began to think that it shouldn't take that long to retrieve a purse, unless it had been stolen. She hastily put her sandals back on, leaving the ankle straps undone. As she stood, her foot began throbbing and she realised there was no way she would be able to walk in the heels. Slipping carefully out the shoes, she picked them up, carrying them in one hand, and the towel in the other. Meandering through the now crowded bar, she made her way back to the counter. Not seeing Haru, she asked one of the other bartenders where she could find Zuko, and followed the directions she received to get to his office.

The door was ajar; Katara knocked lightly before popping her head around.

"Zuko?"

There was no one inside. She debated whether she should wait for him out in the corridor, or return to the public area of the bar. It occurred to her that her booth was probably taken two seconds after leaving it behind, and the idea of standing out here indefinitely didn't appeal to her. She entered his office, and sat in the chair closest to the door, surveying the room around her. It was sparsely decorated; the only remotely decorative items were a few framed articles.

Suddenly, the door swung wide open and Zuko walked in. "I'd invite you to make yourself comfortable but I see you've got that covered."

Katara flushed and got onto her feet. "I'm sorry; It's just that you were gone a while and I was told you would be here. I didn't mean to intrude."

Zuko instantly regretted his ungracious words. She was obviously embarrassed. "Don't be offended. I didn't mean it the way it came out." He searched for the right words to say, to keep her from running out the room, as he suspected she would shortly. "My uncle has actually wanted to send me to charm school since I was about fourteen."

"Charm school?" She responded coldly, at the last minute omitting the rest of her thoughts. _I can see why._

"Something about needing to develop my interpersonal skills." The image of adult Zuko suddenly popped into her mind sitting in a room otherwise filled with little girls in frilly pink dresses learning to sip tea from miniature tea cups. She saw a prim schoolmaster punishing him my having him write lines on a board 'I will think before I speak.' If she wasn't feeling insulted, she'd probably have giggled outright. Actually, it was hard to hold on to her anger after watching that particular scenario unfold mentally.

"Well, if that works out for you, let me know. My brother could use a few lessons. In spite my best efforts, he seems to be immune to my instruction."

He moved closer to her as he spoke. "Maybe you could give me a few tips."

"Oh, I'm sure you can be very charming when you choose to be." His proximity was doing strange things to the back of her neck.

"You think I'm charming?"

Katara knew that death was a better alternative than saying that out loud. She shifted slightly, trying to ignore the shivers that ran down her spine as she pretended to be interested in the articles on the wall. She strove for a disinterested tone. "I'm just saying that considering your other personality flaws, charm's the least of your problems." She smiled sweetly.

She had expected him to move away, upset by her words, insult her, throw a tantrum even, but Zuko seemed unphased. He cocked an eyebrow, challenging her. "Do tell."

"If you want my professional opinion, you can pay for it."

"Fair enough." Zuko moved over to the shelves, took down a ceramic decanter, and without asking her, poured the contents into two small cups. He handed one to her and proceeded to sit down, motioning to her to do the same.

She did, saying "I'm not much of a drinker usually."

"Neither am I, but you are in a bar. And this is very fine sake. Although this doesn't strike me as your scene"

The question took her by surprise. She felt a lump in her throat as she thought of how to answer. She shrugged helplessly before responding finally. "I just…I had a bad day. Today, this date, has always been a bad day for me." Tears flooded her eyes, and she blinked them back. She couldn't say any more.

Finishing off her drink, Katara placed her now empty cup on the desk, and rested her chin in her hands. "Why are you here?"

"I work here." He stated matter-of-factly.

She sighed in exasperation. "You know what I mean. You must have better things to do that hang out with every clumsy customer, like paperwork, or guests to mingle with or staff to supervise? Do you even have to work at this hour? Just answer the question."

"You're accustomed to having things your own way, haven't you?"

"Don't get it twisted. I'm not the one who was born into privilege." Katara was immediately on the defensive.

His eyes narrowed at that. "Don't presume you know anything about me."

"The same way you presumed I was spoiled?"

"I didn't. I merely meant that you're very bossy" _Even as a kid._

"Well, I'm not that either." The look on his face clearly stated that he didn't believe her. "I just think it's tremendously unfair to ask personal questions if you have no intention of sharing yourself. What's your problem with assertive women anyhow?"

"So now you admit it?"

"To being assertive, sometimes. Bossy has a negative connotation."

Zuko tried to suppress a grin, and failed. Katara massaged her temples.

"I'm hiding out."

She dropped her hands and gave him a blank stare. "Hiding?"

"My whole family is in town, my sister's here with her friends. Since we actually get along better from a distance, It's easier to be busy in here than spend time with them, pretending everything's fine. And don't ask for anything more than that, because I'm not interested in being dissected and analysed this evening."

"That's too bad. I think it would really help you." Katara retorted. Just when she was beginning to think he was human, he reminds her why she doesn't like him.

"I don't remember paying for your opinion." Zuko snapped.

"…" Although he had been kind to her.

"Zuko, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have said that." She reached a hand out hesitantly to his.

He caught her hand in mid air, as he replied calmly. "Don't get soft on me now, Katara. There are few people I trust to be completely honest with me, irrespective of my reaction. If nothing else, I've always admired the fact that you're not afraid to speak your mind."

Katara was stunned by the unexpected compliment. He was nothing if not unpredictable. "Err…well, you have an uncanny ability to bring that reaction out in me."

Zuko regarded her thoughtfully. He had not released her hand, and she had not pulled away. Unable to stop himself, he allowed his thumb to lazily trace circles in her palm. He looked at Katara, who sat with her back very straight, as if thoroughly uncomfortable. He let her hand go, and cursed his hormones for his regression into the sixteen year old boy with a major crush.

She let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, as relief and disappointment flooded into her. She wasn't sure what had just happened, her mind probably just invented it. She decided that braving his wrath was infinitely preferable to staring longingly into mesmerising amber eyes. She'd rather face his temper any day.

"So where's the rest of your family now?"

"My sister is out front. You must have passed her when you came in." She was surprised he answered. Katara's mind took her back to the group of laughing girls. She hadn't really looked at them closely. If she had recognized Azula, she would never have entered.

"What's so bad about today?" He asked.

She blinked. "It's the anniversary of my mother's death." Katara looked up quickly but all she saw on his face was concern.

"I'm sorry Katara." He wanted to say something to help, but he knew from personal experience that there was nothing he could say.

"It's silly, actually. It's been so long now."

"Don't be ridiculous. You'll never stop missing her, and that's natural. If it's any consolation, I know exactly how you feel."

There was a knock on the door. Zuko hesitated, but went to answer it. He returned a few moments later holding out her purse.

"I believe this is yours." If he were honest with himself, he'd admit that he was disappointed that it had been retrieved so quickly.

She turned it over in her hands. "Yes. This is it. Thank you."

Now that she no longer had a reason to be there, she struggled to find something to say.

"Aren't you going to check whether anything's missing?" Zuko asked. "Of course, I will take full responsibility and reimburse you."

Her eyebrows rose at that. "Of course." She muttered as she rifled through the contents of the clutch. "No. I didn't have much worth taking anyway; especially not to anyone who could afford to come here." She looked up at him as she snapped it shut.

As another loud knock sounded, a look of annoyance flashed across Zuko's face before he moved briskly towards the door. He finished speaking to his employee to find that Katara was on her feet, looking ready to leave with slippers and purse in hand.

"I think I've kept you from your work, or whatever, long enough." She gave him a half smile. "Thank you, again, for your help, and the sake. You've been very kind." On impulse, she reached up, balancing on her good leg, to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm a businessman. Don't go saying that in public. You'll ruin my reputation." Zuko said seriously.

He caught her hand before she could slip past him. "Actually, I'm finished here. Are you hungry?"

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End file.
